Kakusei: Awakening
by Shimizu Hitomi
Summary: [IN PROGRESS] A fallen doctor. A forgotten spy. Under the power-hungry businessman Takeda Kanryuu, two lonely souls begin to forge a strange but delicate relationship. Pre-series. When dreams, memory, and reality become one... (Aoshi-Megumi)
1. Heaven's Tears

**Disclaimer: Watsuki's, not mine. With the exception of the original characters and the (nonexistent) plot, which _are_ mine. :-P**

**Summary: **A fallen doctor. A forgotten spy. Under the power-hungry businessman Takeda Kanryuu, two lonely souls begin to forge a strange but delicate relationship.  
**Pairings:** Aoshi/Megumi... sort of.  
**Rating:** Mostly K+, ranging occasionally to T, for violence, language, adult themes, drugs (opium)... Not so much for sex. If at all for sex. (Read: Go away, people looking for the smut. You won't find it.) I try to label specifically T chapters if I remember to, but that's probably just me being overly anal.

**Notes: **This is version 2 of the story, first uploaded summer 2004. I think. Or maybe 2005. (The first three chapters are reworked from version 1 posted way back in 2003 -- the remaining chapters are "new" material original to this current version.) YES, I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR A RIDICULOUSLY LONG TIME. (With little to show for it. Snerk.) And there are also obvious stylistic shifts between certain chapters due to the long pauses in updates in between.

Also, there is homosexuality in this story. Eventually. Though the only obvious case is Kanryuu, really, and even that is subtle, and very much open to interpretation. I mean, obviously nothing graphic at all. But this is just a warning for those who are squicked by even the merest _idea_ of the slightest_ possibility _of homosexuality. (I know you're out there.)

**Edit (10/18/06)**: stripped chapters of miscellaneous unnecessary notes and review replies. (some notes I kept, but edited, or just plain rewrote. for example, see above.) Warning -- earlier chapters, and possibly even later chapters, include fangirl Japanese. That will be edited out someday.

* * *

**Kakusei: Awakening**

_Chapter One - Heaven's Tears_

_ Always they return to him, gentle as the rise and fall of the ebbing tide. Memories of a swiftly passing dream, a silent dream of all that could have been, and all that has passed, and all that has wilted over the years, crumbling into dust upon the barren plains of his heart. He watches the dark clouds gather in the distance. Once more, the rain comes. Washing away the blood. The joy. The pain. Once more he falls, losing himself within the savage beauty of the storm, the insanity, the truth and the lies._

_ It is all that he has left._

- - -

It was raining. It was always raining. He hated the rain.

He drew his kodachi from its sheath, stroking the cold blade absentmindedly.

The rain pattered incessantly on the glass window at his back.

_The rain_, pattering incessantly on the dusty streets of edo. running down his back in icy trickles. across the road in muddy streams. edo castle looms before his eyes in all its glory, a ghost castle rising from the mists. and then, just as suddenly, he is swept away in a sea of umbrellas, floating down the street in a somber parade.

rain drips down his face in rivulets. like tears, falling from the sky. the wind whips at his soaking clothes and at his hair, pulled back in a high ponytail.

okashira, okashira, calls a voice in the distance. okashira, _okashira_

"Okashira!" His eyes fluttered open. His head was pounding with the sound of the rain hammering against the window at his back. He hated the rain.

"Okashira," came the man's voice again. It was Hanya, he realized. "Takeda is ready to see us now."

"Aa," he replied. He stood up, sliding his blade back into its sheath.

_okashira, okashira_

He nodded at the masked man in the doorway and at the three others standing behind.

"Let's go," he said.

As they left the room, he reached up, running his fingers through his hair, cropped short against his neck.

_okashira, the castle has fallen_

Takeda Kanryuu's room was glaringly tacky. A sickening clash of the West and the Orient. There was a brightly woven Persian rug lying on the wooden floor before the thick oak door. In the corner stood a marble statue of a nude man, which he quickly averted his eyes from. An oil painting of two gaijin women dressed in fancy ruffled gowns hung on one wall. From the wall facing it hung a yellowed scroll on which was written a single black character: "prosperity."

And Takeda Kanryuu himself was lounging in a velvet moss-green chair behind an elaborately carved desk. There was a fat imported cigar clenched between the businessman's teeth.

"My dearest Aoshi!" exclaimed Takeda Kanryuu in broken English as he removed the cigar from his mouth. "I am so glad that you could make it!"

Aoshi fought back a sudden urge to pace back and forth across the room, feeling very much like a tiger trapped within a jeweled cage. Behind him, his men shifted uneasily.

"Takeda," stated Aoshi coldly. Slowly but accurately. He too had studied the gaijin language. "My men do not understand English."

A dark flash of something passed swiftly over the businessman's face before it disappeared again. "Of course, of course!" said Takeda Kanryuu before switching back to their native Japanese. "Please, just call me Kanryuu."

_Okashira? what have you called me here for? he _asks.

he already knows the answer.

ah, shinomori-kun. you have arrived, replies the old man.

he waits. outside, the rain drums upon the roof. a solemn tolling.

i am dying, shinomori-kun.

he bows his head in the deep, long silence, marked only by the sound of the pattering rain.

i am dying, withering as the flower of the tokugawa wilts, as our country and our people and the ideals we have fought for crumble into dust. i fall as the old era falls, with the coming of the new age.

as spring comes at winter's end, is his reply.

the old man smiles. i have taught you well. you are fifteen -- a man now. a flower that has only just begun to bloom. spring shall come soon, heralded by the winter rains...

lead our people into the light of the new era, shinomori. for i am weary, and i have outlived my time. and perhaps okina was right -- perhaps, in the end, it is in the hands of tomorrow's youth that our future lies. _do you understand, shinomori?_

"Do you understand?"

"I understand," he replied tersely.

"Good, good," said Kanryuu. Light from the oil lamp on the desk glinted off of the businessman's spectacles. "I shall speak to you again tomorrow with more details -- _alone_, please. For now you and your men may retire to your rooms. I trust you have all found them comfortable so far?"

_and please, take care of Misao for me_

"And the money?" asked Aoshi quietly.

"Tomorrow, tomorrow -- we shall discuss all of that tomorrow."

"Then -- I should prefer a simpler room. And a futon. A futon is all I require."

"Are you sure? I made certain to save the finest rooms and the most luxurious beds for you and your men, my dear Aoshi... Ah, very well. The room where you were waiting in will do, I suppose? I shall arrange for futons to be brought there."

Aoshi bowed stiffly and left. His men followed.

"Okashira..." came a deep, low rumble. He looked up to see the scarred, muscular figure of Shikijou at his side. "Be careful."

He inclined his head slightly and continued walking.

"Because..." There was a strange tone in the large warrior's voice. "I saw... the way he looks at you..."

_Watch out, aoshi-sama! she_ squeals, soaked with rain and mud, as she bounces into his lap.

you will catch a cold, he admonishes. he sits there, watching the rain trailing down from the sky in gossamer strands. water from her braid and her clothes drips down his front.

she pouts. you aren't gonna tell on me to jiya, are you?

of course not, he answers. and the _rain continues to fall._

It seemed as if the rain would never end.

His men had already decided to settle down for the night. But he himself could not sleep. The sound of the rain drilled itself relentlessly into his mind. He sat at a side door of Kanryuu's great white mansion, watching the water pouring down.

It was cold. The harsh winter days were fading already into calmer, gentler weather, speckled with the occasional bursts of rain. Still, spring itself had not yet arrived. The world outside remained dark and grey and misty. Almost as if it were a world existing only in his dreams. A world untouched by sunlight or stars.

Movement flickered in the corner of his eye. He caught a sudden glimpse of a figure, slender and feminine, drifting aimlessly through the rain. It was a young woman. A ghostly specter with long black hair, a girl no older than himself. Ethereal, save for the aura of bitter sorrow about her that weighed her down, anchoring her to the ground.

"What are you doing out here?" he demanded, standing up. Perhaps he was dreaming. Perhaps he was living. Perhaps he was dying.

The woman whirled around, startled by his voice. Water dripped, streaming down through her long black hair, over her lavender kimono and haori.

Her lips were redder than freshly spilled blood. She glared at him, but her dark mahogany eyes were empty.

"You," she said. Her voice was smooth and calm, with an underlying fire he was able to detect only from years of listening. "You're one of Kanryuu's cronies, aren't you."

It was a statement, not a question. He winced at her words, feeling a strange frigid fury rise in his heart.

"You will catch a cold," he said at last, ignoring it.

She threw back her head and laughed, long and bitterly. "I like the rain," she retorted.

"... Why?"

"Because the rain is like Heaven's tears..." And the rest of her sentence faded and was lost in the patter of the pouring rain as she swept past him, back into the cold white mansion.

_you aren't gonna tell on me, are you_

_ of course not_

**_Tsuzuku_**

* * *

(10/18/06) Was originally experimenting with tense changing and time shifting. Quite a few people have found it confusing -- the point is that past/present are blurred in his head. Luckily for you, this doesn't last through the entire fic. At any rate, it works better with formatting as on my site (check profile for links), but I have to admit this is probably not the best method in the world... If I ever get around to a version 3, I'll try to see if I can come up with a better way to convey this. Or you can just continue to suffer.  



	2. Fires of Hell

**Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

**Kakusei****: Awakening**

_Chapter Two - Fires of Hell_

Sleep came to him at last, uneasy. The pounding rain haunted his dreams. His dreams were dark and murky, intangible. The bitter laughter scorched him, time and time again. And still the rain fell.

_Laughter. long and cold and bitter. ice that _burns. and the rain is red. everything is red. everything falls. everything burns. he hates the rain.

the heavens and the skies above, they are crying. crying frosty crimson tears. to snuff out the scarlet blaze.

and lavender ghosts flit through halls of blinding jewels _and white marble cages_.

Blank white walls met his eyes as he woke with a start. One hand reached instinctively for the kodachi at his side. He sat up, his other hand brushing his bangs out of his face. He realized belatedly that his hair and clothes had not yet dried from the previous night.

"Awake at last, Okashira?" came Hanya's amused voice.

He glanced outside the glass window at the other end of the room. Nothing but gray and water.

"Dawn has not yet broken," said Hanya, watching his leader shrewdly.

"Aa. You always were the earliest riser of us." Aoshi could swear that the man was smirking beneath his white demon mask. But Hanya did not reply.

At last Aoshi stood. He padded silently out of the room, catlike. Through the dark halls he walked, until he reached a flight of stairs.

"What is troubling you?" he asked at last in a subdued tone.

Hanya laughed noiselessly behind him. "Okashira," he said. "How can I not be concerned, when instead of sleeping, you wander around all night before finally returning to our room, completely drenched?"

"I could not sleep."

"So you took it upon yourself to go take a shower in the rain?"

"... It was nothing."

"So desu ka? Then let me ask you this: Who is Takeda Kanryuu? What business does he have with us?"

_A sneer. the white demon mask lies _fallen on the ground. the man's face is a grotesque, contorted gray the face of a monster.

surprised? asks the man.

so desu ka? continues the man when he does not answer. then let me ask you this: who is hanya? who is shinomori aoshi? man or beast?

or perhaps, demon?

tell me, or _do you not know?_

"Do not ask me questions you already know the answers to," he replies, heaving a great sigh.

"Do I? Do you?"

"Hanya."

"Okashira. Takeda Kanryuusai, Captain of the Fifth Troop of the Shinsengumi, was assassinated in Kyoto for his treachery ten years ago as he left a party, drunk. And yet now, a businessman in Edo named _Takeda Kanryuu_ hires us for his own purposes... and this does not seem strange to you?"

"Takeda is a common name."

"Hmph. And this _Kanryuu_ is twice the fool Kanryuusai ever was. Still," said Hanya, sighing as well, "one cannot deny that something feels wrong about the whole situation. _Who is Takeda Kanryuu_? We do not even know his business here. I doubt that it is what he tells us. It cannot be anything good, if he is willing to hire even such demons as ourselves. Is that not so, _Okashira_?"

"It does not matter."

The masked man gave his leader a calculating glance. Then he turned to go back.

"... I trust you, Okashira."

_Do you not trust anyone?_ demands the wily old man. they stand there, facing each other in silence. the rain is coming down in torrents, but neither of them notices.

aoshi. you are a prodigy. one of the best i have ever seen. not only are you an excellent warrior, you have a brilliant mind. you have talent, and i see a bright future ahead for you... even so, you are yet young. the oniwaban is your family. if you cannot even trust your family... then you are not one of us.

i know it is hard, continues the old okashira's best friend and most trusted companion, more gently. ever since yoshimune established our organization, the oniwaban have been handpicked from the kii clan... and you are but an orphan we adopted into our group from wandering monks seven years ago. nevertheless, you have proved your worth in these seven years. seven years, aoshi. it is a long time. surely these seven years with us have taught you something of family and of loyalty. let me ask you again: do you not trust anyone?

i... he begins uneasily. i trust misao, he ends in a whisper.

in the darkness of the rainy night, a _slight smile graces the older spy's face._

There was a slight, smug grin on Kanryuu's face when Aoshi went to meet him, some time before noon. There was now an extra chair in the room that had not been there the day before.

"Come in, come in! Have a seat! You slept well last night, I hope? Good. Care for some wine?" The businessman gestured at the dark bottle on his desk. He spoke in Japanese, not the broken English of the previous day.

Aoshi shook his head.

"Oh, come now. Coffee? Tea?"

"Tea will be fine."

He fell into an awkward silence as Kanryuu ordered the male servant who had been standing by to fetch tea for him. When it arrived, Aoshi took the cup into his hands, sniffing its contents out of habit before taking a sip. Kanryuu dismissed the servant.

The rain had started up again. Aoshi listened to the rhythmic pattering as Kanryuu began to speak. It was almost calming, in a way. Yet at the same time, it was slowly driving him insane. He looked down at his knees. He thought haphazardly that the hard wooden Western armchair was strange and uncomfortable. Perhaps he was merely unused to it. He tried not to fidget. He looked up again, only to see an oddly sated, yet almost wistful look in Kanryuu's eyes.

It disturbed him.

"The money," spoke Aoshi coolly, fighting to keep his calm.

The businessman's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. Aoshi gripped the fabric of his pants, only semiconscious of the act. His right hand inched slightly towards the sheathed kodachi at his side.

"Ah, yes! How could I forget?" continued Kanryuu as if nothing had happened. "What do you say to--"

"Monthly payments. Three-quarters in the gaijin's money. The rest for my men and I to use in the markets."

"... Ah-ahh... So desu," stammered Kanryuu. "That..."

"It should be fine, should it not?"

"Ah... ah... hai. It will be fine."

"Good. Now if that is all--" Aoshi stood.

"Iya!" The businessman jumped up. "Chotto matte yo--" Then, more calmly, in English, "No, not yet. Remember -- ah... when I spoke of other, more delicate matters I would like you to take care of, besides acting as my bodyguards...?"

Aoshi stared impassively at the bespectacled man.

"There... is someone I would like you to meet..." Kanryuu continued, slyly, once again in Japanese. "Megumi-chan! You may come in, now!"

It took all his years of training to keep from making any movement besides a slightly inclined eyebrow as she stalked delicately into the room from a door hidden behind a curtain hanging by the oil painting. It was the woman from the previous night. The woman of the rain. There was a storm brewing within the depths of her dark brown eyes. Aoshi wondered why he had not noticed the door before. It no doubt led to the room adjoining Kanryuu's.

"I believe I told you never to refer to me as Megumi-_chan_ again," the woman hissed scathingly.

"My pet," crooned Kanryuu in English, ignoring her. "This is Shinomori Aoshi. He shall be working for me from now on... in order to ensure that everything runs smoothly with my... _business_. And ah, my dear Aoshi, this is Takani Megumi. I shall be trusting you to watch over her from now on... she is quite a valuable asset to me... and I should be terribly displeased should anything happen to her..."

Kanryuu glanced at him expectantly. He inclined his head slightly, then turned and bowed stiffly to the woman.

"Yoroshiku," he muttered. The woman bowed in turn.

Aoshi barely caught her fierce, mocking whisper as she straightened up once more.

"So not his crony, but his _dog_..."

He felt something burning from deep within him. His hand grabbed at the blade by his side. Neither the businessman nor the woman noticed.

Kanryuu beamed, flashing rows of shiny white teeth.

"Very good, Megumi-chan. You may return to your work now."

The room felt strangely empty as she left, as ephemeral as the autumn wind, her long black hair tossing behind her like a final fleeting cascade of rain.

Or, perhaps, like fire, burning everything in its path, leaving only the ashes of memory that littered a shadowy void.

_Her long black braid _swings wildly behind her as he watches her race away. she turns after a few steps, grinning happily at him. her smile is like a ray of sunlight, bright and warm in the chilly air. the vision fades away as she continues to run, far into the distance, a gray veil of cascading rain obscuring her at last.

he feels a fire slowly eating away at his heart, leaving nothing but an immense, empty sorrow.

for her. everything is for her now. the light of the new era. the promise of the future. there is nothing left for him here.

he will be gone, _come spring._

**_Tsuzuku_**

* * *

info on the oniwabanshuu was taken from the Hiten Misturugi Ryuu Rurouni Kenshin Fanfiction Archive. the only place on the net with ANY info (in English at least) on the historical oniwaban group. that I could find, anyway. (10/18/06 -- at the time I wrote this, at least. Which was 2004/5.) plus quite a bit on the shinsengumi and other historical people. of course, as mentioned on their index page, this information may not be completely accurate... 

the detailed shinsengumi information, though, must be credited to all those shinsengumi-ites who helped A LOT in discussions at the rkdreams forums (10/18/06 -- now dead, I believe), and is definitely as accurate as possible (tho I claim artistic license for any fudged details XD). thank you thank you very much, everyone. :-)


	3. Darkness Unescapable

**Disclaimer applies. (the song used in this chapter is not mine either. hitomi is not talented enough to write songs.)**

**Notes: **The title of this chapter was based on a particular scene/quote in RoTK featuring my favorite Tolkein pairing, Eowyn/Faramir.

* * *

**Kakusei: Awakening**

_Chapter Three - Darkness Unescapable_

"There is a woman," he calmly informed his men as they gathered around him in their plain white room. Hanya was leaning nonchalantly against the wall. "Kanryuu wishes us to watch her. I do not know what she is to him, or why she is so important. But this does not matter. Her room is next to Kanryuu's... We will take turns -- there should be at least one of us watching her at all times. These are Kanryuu's orders."

"But, Okashira..." exclaimed the short man standing to Hanya's right.

"What is it, Beshimi?"

"Iya... it is nothing."

"Beshimi."

"That man is scum!" the tiny man burst out angrily. "I... there is something _wrong_ about him. Just _wrong_." Beshimi shuddered. Beshimi was an excellent judge of character. Aoshi took strange comfort in that fact.

"I know," he said softly. "I know... Be strong, men. Come next spring, we shall have no more need for this foolish bastard, and then we shall leave this place for good."

Beshimi bowed his head.

"But first... we must do our job. Beshimi, you explore the inside of this building and get a detailed map of all three floors drawn. Shikijou and Hyottoko, you two scout out the outdoor grounds."

As the three bowed and left to their respective posts, the one remaining man stood up from his position against the wall.

"And as for me, Okashira?"

"And as for you, Hanya, I have a special request," Aoshi replied, slipping a folded origami crane into the masked warrior's hand. Hanya glanced at the crane sitting in his palm as the young okashira strode out of the room. Then he unfolded it. His eyes skimmed swiftly over the neat black brushstrokes flowing across the colored paper.

_Who is Takani Megumi?_

- - -

Takani Megumi was not a stupid woman. She was well aware that Shinomori Aoshi was no ordinary man, not like the blundering fools Kanryuu was normally so fond of hiring. That much at least she knew. Something about the man troubled her. Kanryuu and his common rogues she had at least understood. She knew their motivations. What they feared, what they desired. Greed and lust were straightforward concepts, and she was not a stupid woman. But it did not seem to her that it was for power or simple worldly desires that Shinomori had come to this mansion.

There was a strange fire burning within her heart as she thought of the newcomer. Anger, envy, longing, hatred, despair. Her trembling hands clutched the folds of her yukata until her knuckles turned white. The fire raged fiercely. It would consume her, she knew, the way it had consumed her mother and her two brothers, eating away at her until there was nothing left but an empty cold shell.

She did not care. All she had now were her pride and her wit, and she would be a fool no longer.

Anyone who would willingly work for a worm like Kanryuu was even lower than Kanryuu himself. She was certain of this. And she would drag them all down to hell with her. Every last one of them.

It was only a few days later, as she pored over dusty old medical textbooks in Kanryuu's personal library, when she met him again. She had guessed from Kanryuu's talk that he was some prodigy from the Bakumatsu years. A young leader, left with only a few men at his command. She suspected that he had sent his men to watch over her room, though she never caught even a shadow of a movement as she sat on her bed at night, reminiscing.

Even so, she was sure that they did not know the truth behind her role in Kanryuu's business. She had not been sent to the basement since Shinomori had been hired. So they could not know, could not have followed her, could not have seen the truth. She was not sure exactly what Kanryuu was planning. Perhaps the merchant did not wish the other man to know either.

Perhaps that was why she was so startled when he walked in, gazing about wonderingly at the shelves of books, like a child experiencing the colorful crowds of the outdoor markets for the very first time.

"Not _you_ again," she said scornfully. She was the only one who ever used the library. She slammed her book shut and stood.

He turned with a start. He had failed to notice her presence.

She sighed audibly. "Very well, I shall come back some other time, then." She began to walk away.

In three long strides he caught up to her and grabbed her arm. She stiffened at his touch. The sound of rain filled the empty silence.

"What..." she whispered furiously, "do you want?"

He said nothing, but loosened his grip. Immediately, she jerked away, backing up.

"What do you want from me?" she repeated, louder.

At last he replied, in a soft low voice. "Answers..."

Her eyes widened with shock as he tossed a familiar hateful triangular packet to the ground. Her mouth slowly rounded into an 'o'.

"Opium, is it not?" he asked quietly.

She thought of running away. But then she looked up, glaring into his eyes.

"Yes, opium! Are you satisfied now?"

"Then you are the one who --"

At that, her hand reached out, and she slapped him. Stunned, he touched his cheek, stinging from the pain.

She turned her face away. "You're a smart one, aren't you," she whispered, venom lacing her voice. "None of the others ever figured it out..."

Before he could answer, she spoke once more, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. "You are a beautiful man, Shinomori Aoshi... Beware, for Takeda Kanryuu covets beautiful things." She laughed bitterly. The sound faded, washed away by the drumming of the rain.

The voice of Kanryuu's manservant broke through the rain and the silence. "Shinomori-sama--"

He turned his head, refusing to look her in the eye.

"Shinomori-sama, Takeda-sama is leaving now."

Angrily, she continued to laugh. "Welcome to the darkness, Shinomori..." she spat viciously at his retreating figure.

He swept away without another word.

- - -

He had insisted that Hyottoko come with them. The rain had paused for the moment, but he felt uneasy still. And Hyottoko was a good man. He did not think Kanryuu was pleased with the arrangement, somehow, but the businessman said nothing of the matter, even as the three of them walked down the bustling streets of the city he had once known as Edo.

Kanryuu seemed in a particularly good mood. The businessman had said something about watching kabuki. Aoshi had not been aware that the man was fond of anything but making a profit.

Even after nine years, he was still not used to walking about openly in the middle of a busy street. All his old habits seemed to come back to him as he surreptitiously began observing his surroundings, watching for abnormal behavior. There was a feeling of agitation rising up his throat. He wondered if he were a fool.

_A white horned face. permanent leering grin. the masked warrior is_ pacing back and forth when he comes to listen to the man's report. the man is acting strangely.

bakayarou, says the masked man as he tosses a triangular packet to the floor. you fool.

he feels his heart constricting.

it does not matter, he says at last. we are but the man's bodyguards. this has nothing to do with us.

so desu ka? okashira.

this has nothing to do with us, he repeats.

takani. do you not recognize the name? a family of doctors from aizu. even their women and children were learned in medicine.

takani megumi... he whispers. he should have known. the takanis were well known. besides, her accent is recognizable. and she carries herself like a woman of aizu. tall and proud.

what is a takani doing here, in edo? he wonders. but he already knows the answer.

do you? the masked man would ask, if the man could read his mind. do you really?

so he does not say anything.

don't tell the others, he says, instead. don't tell them, don't let them know.

and he looks out the _window and_ _watches the rain come down in sheets of gray water_.

Sometime when he had not been paying attention, the rain had started up once again. The kabuki theatre was crowded and hot. Hyottoko had never been to a kabuki play before, and was enjoying his first experience thoroughly. Aoshi, however, stood at the door, watching the rain fall.

Suddenly, his senses told him that Kanryuu and Hyottoko were no longer inside the theatre. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, drawing a deep breath. Then he walked into the rain. They were in a narrow alley behind the theatre, he realized. A dark alley that they had passed earlier in the night. A sense of foreboding filled his heart. He began to run.

As he neared the alley, he could see Hyottoko at the entrance, fending off a group of shadowy figures. One, two, three, four, five... eight of them. All armed with katana. He put on an extra burst of speed, drawing out his kodachi.

"The fire," he whispered urgently, "use your fire!" even as he realized that Hyottoko's only weapon could do no good in the heavy rain. But there was no time to regret his foolish decision to bring the fire man along on this trip. He swept down upon the shadowy attackers like a hawk upon its prey, kicking down one man and slashing across another. Hyottoko acknowledged his timely arrival with a quick grin.

Even weaponless, the fire man put up a good fight. But the young okashira could see that his man was already hurt, and the two of them remained outnumbered. Aoshi scanned their wet surroundings quickly, thinking hard. Then he tried to catch the fire man's eye, signaling to him his next command. Hyottoko looked up and saw the young okashira's subtle gesturing. The fire man nodded and proceeded to maneuver himself and three of the attackers deeper into the dark alley. Out of the corner of his eye, Aoshi noticed a grayish lump in a shadowed corner of the alleyway. Kanryuu's blurred, pathetic figure huddled, still alive, behind the gray bulk. Aoshi felt a sudden odd burst of anger. He punched viciously at the three who had remained to fight him.

Hyottoko had reached the end of the alley, where the eaves of a building hung over and shielded the ground from the falling rain. Aoshi pushed aside his fury and shouted, "Now, Hyottoko! Now!"

Hyottoko took a deep breath. And then fire came bursting from his mouth. There were screams, muffled by the pounding rain. Burning flesh, hissing steam. Aoshi ignored the noise, ignored the smell, concentrating only on the fight before him. He moved as if in a dream. There was nothing left but him and his opponents and the rain. Yet somehow, even as Hyottoko breathed fire into the shadows, and the cold steel blade of his kodachi sliced through the night, and blood spurted into the air in a scarlet spray, Aoshi thought he could smell the fresh salty scent of the sea.

_The fresh spray of the sea upon his bare skin. the lonely cry of a gull_ soaring high above him.

"ashita hamabe o,"

angry dark violet-blue waves, crashing against a rocky gray shore, breaking into foamy white.

"sa ma yo eba..."

it is a simple, almost childish tune, yet eerily haunting. he has heard it in his dreams and his memories so many times now that he can recite the words by heart, but he cannot for the life of him remember why the melody seems so familiar.

the sky is tinged with a grayish pink. it is an odd feeling, looking at this otherworldly sky, for he has been dreaming of fiery orange suns sinking down below crimson skies stained with blood, and yellow moons in an inky black night sky. he has not dreamt of the sea in ages.

sometimes it rains. usually it does not. this time, the sky is clear, save for a few wispy stray clouds, lazily drifting past.

he walks along the quiet beach, feeling the grains of sand shifting between his toes. this he finds strange, too. he cannot recall the last time he walked barefoot.

"mukashi no koto zo..."

echoing, lingering notes. they fade away at last, reluctantly. he glances back and sees his footprints, a lonely trail in the smooth sandy shore. it begins to rain.

and the sun explodes even as it rises, a scarlet flower in a darkening sky, and his ears are filled with the mournful wailing of gulls circling above him like vultures, then falling to the earth like fluttering white scarves.

the beach burns. the furious flames leap high into the sky, dancing all about him.

he burns. it rains. the wind howls with rage. and then _there is only the inescapable darkness._

_ it smells like death._

It smelled like death in the darkness of the night.

He gasped for breath. The rain battered him like a thousand cold daggers piercing him all at once.

It felt as if he were suffocating, suffocating within the ever-encroaching shadows.

**_Tsuzuku_**

* * *

Credits for the song: 

"Hamabe no Uta" (Song of the Beach): Lyrics by Hayashi Kokei, Music by Narita Tamezo, English translation by John Higgins.

_Ashita hamabe o_ (I love to wander along the beach,)  
_Sa ma yo eba_ (at the very break of dawn.)  
_Mukashi no koto zo_ (It brings sweet mem'ries to my heart)  
_Shinoba ruru_ (of the ancient ones who've gone.)  
_Kaze no o to yo_ (The ocean breeze is whispering,)  
_Kumo no samayo_ (the clouds are drifting by;)  
_Yo su ru nami mo_ (Old mem'ries rush like the morning tide,)  
_Kai no i ro mo_ (and with joy my heart will cry.)

* * *

According to my notes, Edo fell in May 1868, and was renamed Tokyo in October of the same year. According to the Shinsengumi folks, Kanryuusai was killed in June 1867. This story takes place in 1877, 10th year of the Meiji (and thus one year before the Kenshin series). It is currently around February, I think. Just to get everyone oriented, including myself. :-P (10/18/06 -- this may be outdated info! I think I've since laid out a more definite timeline, but not sure, have to look it up.)

And Hyottoko literally means "fire man."


	4. Shape Without Form, Shade Without Colour

**Disclaimer applies.**

**Notes: **This was originally going to be just one chapter but then it got too long, so I split it in two.

* * *

**Kakusei: Awakening**

_Chapter Four - Shape Without Form, Shade Without Colour_

Breathe in, breathe out. _drip_ Breathe in, breathe out. _drip_

There was only one more left.

He could feel it. Sense the man's presence.

Only one more.

"Who are you? What is your business with Takeda Kanryuu?" His hoarse whisper echoed through the dark black void.

_drip_

A figure cloaked in white stepped out from the shadows. It was a tall man, somewhat broad in the shoulder. The man strode forward, carrying himself with a certain elegance and pride. His eyes were a glittering brown, and his long dark hair was tied back and streaked with silver. His flowing white foreign coat flared out gently behind him.

Aoshi's sharp ears caught a low chuckle, almost indiscernible in the patter of rain.

"You are quite an interesting young man, aren't you? Disposing of my men so quickly, so efficiently." The man's voice was a warm tenor, soft and almost musical.

"Who are you?" repeated Aoshi, more sharply.

The tall man ignored him. "And sensing my presence even as you fought alone against three of them, all worthy fighters themselves... Yes, even a pitiful amateur like me can see that you are no ordinary man."

"You are no amateur," Aoshi replied coolly. "You have been attempting to mask your ki ever since I arrived."

This time, the tall man broke out into raucous laughter. "I am pleased that you noticed. Nevertheless, I am afraid you are mistaken. I am no warrior, but a simple merchant."

Aoshi's eyes narrowed. "Then you are... Takeda's business rival?"

"His rival? Ha! I suppose you could put it that way."

"Then leave. With your men all disabled, you cannot hope to win against my man and me. Come back for Takeda some other time -- although I will guarantee your failure even then."

"Ha! Though I am alone, your own man is badly hurt himself. And he is still embroiled in his own fight. Did you not notice? So we are even. No, you are at a disadvantage, for while you fight, you must watch also for the welfare of your employer -- he is your employer, is he not? -- while I, on the other hand, need only to look after myself. And at any rate, I would be a pitiful coward to turn down your challenge! Come!" The man drew out a glittering katana. Without a moment of hesitation, Aoshi rushed forward to meet him with his own kodachi.

_drip_

(echoes in an endless void)

_Come! the old okashira_ yells. come at me!

he rushes forward to meet the man, kodachi in hand. a flash: sunlight gleaming upon clashing blades. the bright ringing of metal upon metal. three black strands of hair drift to the ground. the okashira is old, but still as fast as ever.

but he will be faster! faster! swirling like the wind, like water, cascading

everything seems to slow down before his eyes

come at me!

not fast enough still not fast enough

_drip_

water and blood

_aoshi-sama!_

falling from the sky

gray blue

_okashira, okashira_

silence

_OKASHIRA_

and he thinks, though the thought flies past in an instant (no time to think no time to think)

_i_ _cannot lose._

He could not lose. Winning was meaningless, but to lose meant that everything he had ever lived for, fought for, was a lie, an illusion. He could hear the heavy breathing of both his opponent and himself, drowning out even the solemn tolling of the rain. He could see the whiteness of the other man's ridiculously ostentatious Western-style coat flickering in and out of the shadows, and the stained dull gleam of both their blades. All else was silence. All else was darkness.

Merchant or not, this man was no novice swordsman, Aoshi thought. The man's height left Aoshi, a tall man himself, at a rare disadvantage. Aoshi's normal kicks and punches were difficult to execute against the taller man, leaving him constantly on the defensive with his kodachi. He knew he had to switch to another strategy, and soon, but he was finding it hard to think. It should not have been hard. He had fought against opponents larger than himself in the past. But this opponent was fast, despite his size, and did not appear to be tiring any time soon.

But then the illusion shattered, and the emptiness melted away, and once again he heard the shouts of other men echoing through the night. It seemed as if it were raining harder than ever. The rain washed away the blood and the grime accumulating upon him, washed away the stench of burning men. Hyottoko's bulking body materialized on the edge of his vision, and Aoshi let out a breath he had not realized he was holding. He saw now that his opponent was maneuvering himself closer and closer to Kanryuu, apparently still lying unconscious on the ground. This, he thought wearily, was his chance. Risky, perhaps, but his muddled brain could come up with no better solution at the moment.

Closer and closer inched the tall man to his prey. Aoshi waited, biding his time, patiently parrying each thrust, each slash. His fingers were numb with cold.

_Breathe in. Breathe out._

Aoshi's adversary had reached his goal at last. The tall man towered over Kanryuu triumphantly, katana raised like a snake poised to strike. With a sudden shout, Aoshi launched himself at his opponent. Just in time, the man brought up his sword to block the incoming assault. But cornered against the alley wall, the man could not dodge the subsequent blows Aoshi dealt him. The tall man doubled over in pain as Aoshi leapt back, out of reach of the man's katana. To Aoshi's surprise, his opponent began to cough, a terrible, hacking sound. Blood dribbled from the man's mouth as he took several long, shuddering breaths.

"I am afraid you, too, are mistaken," said Aoshi coldly as they both gasped for breath. "The welfare of Takeda Kanryuu is not of my concern. I play -- to _win_."

At this, a startled smile crept onto the tall man's face.

"You wished to know who I am?" rasped the man, a strange light coming into his dark brown eyes. "Then let me tell you now: My name is Ebisawa Minoru, and I shall not rest until the one known as Takeda Kanryuu is dead!" With one final burst of energy, the man rushed forward, slashing across Aoshi's arm. Aoshi dropped his own blade and gripped the bleeding gash with his other hand, more from shock than from pain.

"Remember..." choked Ebisawa as he fled, staggering slightly. "This is just the beginning..."

Aoshi stared at the swirling folds of the long white coat as the tall man melted away into the darkness of the night. He made no attempt to follow. Rain dripped from his face. His hands were frozen stiff and stained with blood. Ebisawa Minoru, he repeated in his mind. Ebisawa Minoru. He turned to Hyottoko, who stood breathing heavily at his side, having just finished off his own opponents.

"Daijoubu ka?"

"Daijoubu desu," came the weak but buoyant reply.

He looked more closely at the fire man. The wounds were numerous, though mostly shallow. Aoshi had no choice but to have faith in the fire man, and hope that he would be able to last until they returned to the mansion.

Hyottoko now turned to check on the conditions of Ebisawa's men. Aoshi too bent swiftly over his fallen employer. To his disgust, the fool was neither hurt nor unconscious, merely cowering pitifully, frozen stiff in his fear.

"W-well done, my dear Aoshi," stammered the businessman, seeing that the danger had passed. "Well done, indeed."

Aoshi resisted the urge to slam his fist into the man's face. At that same moment, he realized that the ragged gray bundle the businessman was cowering behind was, in fact, a person. A boy. His limbs were slender and white; his face smooth and delicate. Aoshi thought he could detect a faint smear of makeup lingering upon the boy's skin... an onnagata, Aoshi realized, vaguely recognizing the face from the earlier performance. So the boy had to be at least fifteen... yet he looked like a child of no more than twelve.

The young actor stared at him, unflinching. Aoshi looked away, disquieted.

"What is this," he hissed.

Kanryuu looked up at him, face unreadable behind cracked glasses. "His name is Tetsuo-chan," purred the businessman smoothly, in control once more. "Isn't he a lovely specimen? I took great pains to ensure that we would be able to watch his performance tonight. He is a greatly sought after actor. Talented, is he not? And --"

The businessman was interrupted with a well-placed hit. "Cease your useless babbling, fool," Aoshi muttered under his breath as he shouldered his employer's body. The boy continued to stare at him with unnervingly wide gray eyes. Aoshi suppressed a sudden shudder. There was a feeling of foreboding in his heart.

Hyottoko spoke now, finished with his examination of Ebisawa's fallen men. "This one is still alive, Okashira. Should I?"

Aoshi nodded, still watching the boy. Hyottoko shouldered the unconscious attacker in reply. After a moment's hesitation, Aoshi said to the boy, quietly, "Can you stand?"

The boy said nothing, but stood. He was unexpectedly tall, despite his slight build, though still small for his age.

"Follow us," said Aoshi simply, and turned. The boy took a tentative step forward. Then another. And another.

The three of them began to trudge through the muddy streets of Edo, heading back to Kanryuu's mansion. Aoshi wondered what had gotten into him, deciding to bring the boy back with him. The cold was making him numb to everything. He could no longer feel the pain from his wound. He wondered if the cold had gotten to his mind as well. But it was too late to turn back. Too late to regret.

The rain continued to pour.

_The rain_, pattering incessantly on the dusty streets of edo. running down his back in icy trickles. across the road in muddy streams. rain drips down his face in rivulets. like tears, falling from the sky. the wind whips at his soaking clothes and at his hair, pulled back in a high ponytail.

okashira, okashira, calls a voice in the distance.

okashira, it is over it is all over edo-jo has fallen

you lie!

fallen fallen fallen the castle has fallen

you lie!

okashira... onegai

he is swept away in a sea of umbrellas, floating down the street in a somber parade. edo castle looms before his eyes in all its glory, _a ghost castle rising from the mists._

And then Kanryuu's white mansion loomed before his eyes, materializing behind a gauzy gray curtain of rain.

_it is over all over_

_how can it be, when it has only just begun?_

"This is just the beginning," he whispered to the falling rain. Water streamed down his face, into his eyes, blinding him.

"The real game... starts now."

_**Tsuzuku**_


	5. But Still Falls the Rain

**Disclaimer applies.**

**Notes: **PG-13, for brief and relatively mild torture scene.

* * *

**Kakusei: Awakening**

_Chapter Five - But Still Falls the Rain_

They were greeted by Shikijou as they rushed into the mansion, dripping wet and spattered with mud. Hyottoko collapsed, the body of the unconscious man falling to the floor with him.

"Okashira --" exclaimed Shikijou, startled.

"Get Hanya," said Aoshi tersely, Kanryuu's body still sprawled over his shoulder. "We were attacked. Hyottoko is hurt."

Shikijou took one look at the bedraggled figures in the doorway and hurried away for help. Only moments later, Hanya appeared, with _the woman_ following at his heels. Aoshi suddenly felt very exhausted. He looked at Hanya, slightly bewildered. But Hanya ignored him pointedly.

The woman regarded them coolly. "There is a spare room next to the one you currently reside in. Tell the rest of your men to move there for now. It is furnished in the Western style, but they will just have to deal with it. After that, take everyone who is injured to the emptied room. I will treat them there."

Her voice revealed nothing. But Aoshi noticed the trembling of her hands as she turned and picked up her medicine box, then disappeared up the stairs.

"Okashira," came Beshimi's concerned voice. The short man had arrived at the scene sometime during the confusion. Shikijou hovered close behind.

"Hyottoko will be fine," Aoshi said quietly. "Don't worry."

Beshimi bowed his head. "Demo, Okashira... that woman..." There was a hint of distrust in the short man's voice.

"It will be fine," repeated Aoshi. "Go."

Shikijou looked at him, unspoken words hanging in the air between them. _Who is she?_ But Aoshi shook his head. At his side, Hanya snorted, but said nothing. Some strange, indescribable emotion shone in the scarred man's eyes. Then the man left, without another word. Beshimi followed. Meanwhile, the gray-eyed boy stood unnoticed in a silent corner until Aoshi, suddenly recalling the boy's existence, looked over, uncertain of what to do.

"Tell the boy to help," remarked Hanya dryly, seeing where his okashira's attentions were directed. Though the masked man eyed the boy curiously, he had not asked any questions yet, and he would not ask any questions later. Aoshi knew this.

"Hyottoko is quite a handful in himself," continued Hanya, voice dripping with sarcasm. "The other two are no lightweights either. I have no desire to break my back dragging up these fools."

Aoshi raised an eyebrow, thinking of the boy's willowy figure. But when he looked, he saw that the boy had already taken Ebisawa's man into his arms. Aoshi noted the boy's surprising strength and the unnatural grace with which the youth moved. Then Aoshi shook his head, trying to rid himself of his growing unease.

"We should hurry," he said, attempting to mask his agitation. He headed towards the stairs, knowing that Hanya and the boy followed close behind.

The woman was waiting for them at the door to their room. "Get them all settled down. Running around in the rain with injuries like that, while carrying such a heavy load -- how stupid can you get? It's a wonder that he got so far without any trouble! Or perhaps, he was merely following the orders of his beloved _Okashira_."

Aoshi closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, then exhaled.

"Kanryuu is unhurt. He is merely knocked out."

"Good for him," she spat. "I am glad -- now I won't have to waste my time tending to that bastard. I shall have my hands full with your men alone."

"... Only one heeds my commands. The other... was one of our attackers."

At this, she looked up. "_What_?"

Aoshi did not reply, but walked over to a futon and laid his employer's body down. Hanya had already relieved himself of Hyottoko's body, and now stood to the side, watching the conversation silently.

"_Shinomori_." There was now an audible tremor in the woman's voice. "Isn't it enough to have defeated your opponent? Why must you --"

"Takani-_sensei_," interrupted Aoshi, voice barely above a whisper. His hand was clasped firmly about the kodachi at his side. "Haven't you considered... that perhaps I... I am not..." Here he stopped, unable to continue.

"Not what? A cold, heartless bastard?" The bitter sound of her laughter mingled with the drumming of the rain in a mournful duet.

"It's not what you think --"

Yet before the woman could respond, the boy from the alley stood forward and placed the last man's body onto a bed. Then the boy turned and gazed quietly at the woman.

Noticing the youth for the first time, she whispered, "And this... this is...?"

"That is a question better answered by Kanryuu himself."

Understanding slowly dawned in her eyes. Her hands clenched tightly into fists. "What is your name?" she asked the boy softly. But the boy shook his head.

"Tetsuo," said Aoshi. "He is called Tetsuo. I think... he cannot speak."

"So desu ne," she replied quietly, voice simmering with anger. Then she spoke again, hesitating. "There is... a secret room, built within my own room by the mansion's previous owner... not even Kanryuu knows of it. I found it myself only by chance. I will take Tetsuo there." She glared up at Aoshi. "You will not speak of this to that fool."

He bowed his head. "I had not planned to," he said, though in reality he did not know what exactly he had planned to do.

"But first..." Once again Aoshi noticed the quiver in her voice. "I must... look after my patients." She turned away from him resolutely and began to work.

Hanya glanced first at her, then back at Aoshi. "I shall leave, then, Okashira."

Aoshi nodded again. Hanya bowed and slipped out of the room. The boy kneeled down in the corner. The woman continued to work. Aoshi did not ask if she needed his help, but out of habit, he took up a watchful position by the door.

It seemed like hours before the woman heaved a great sigh and spoke. "Your man is fine. He will need to rest, but he is fine. So is the other one. I... will take the boy now." Her tone was clipped and professional. She stood and took the boy's hand into her own, ready to leave.

"Takani-sensei."

"Don't call me that," she whispered. "Don't."

"Takani--"

"Don't! I am no doctor. I am no longer a Takani. I have forsaken my name, my past, my family, everything."

"... Megumi."

"What do you _want_ from me?" she cried.

Silence.

"... Arigato."

She paused and looked at him, startled. He stared back at her calmly. The hammering rain seemed louder than ever in the stillness of the room. And he thought, not for the first time, that she was a beautiful woman. Beautiful, and proud.

"You... you're hurt too..." she said, suddenly noticing the wound on his arm.

"It is nothing."

"Don't you give me that! Why didn't you tell me? I need to look at this as soon as possible; it could get infected, and that would just complicate things, and --"

"It is nothing. Take the boy."

"Baka!" she huffed. "You... oh, just wait for me here. Don't you dare try to leave!"

Then she fled the room with the boy in tow. Aoshi watched her hair flying back as the door closed softly behind her.

_The shoji door_ slides softly shut.

(there is a memory he has. a memory from so long ago that he is no longer sure if it is a memory, or a dream, or perhaps it is a lie. always he wonders, is it real? is it true? but what is reality? what is truth? and perhaps his memories, his dreams, they are all lies and he does not know.)

long black hair. drifting past. slipping out of sight. out of memory

(in his memories there is always a curtain of long hair, shimmering black. misao's? his mother's? or perhaps some other woman's? but he does not remember his mother.)

a sweet, lilting melody, haunting in its innocence

(he thinks he was born by the sea. the ocean and its great wide waters have always beckoned to him, grasping, reaching, yearning for his soul. _you belong to me_)

dust and rain and blood

okaasan okaasan okaasan!

his heart is numb with cold.

you're hurt you're hurt _you're hurt_

"You're hurt..." A low murmur, accompanied by the pattering rain. Aoshi whirled around with a start. He saw Kanryuu struggle to sit up.

"You're awake," Aoshi replied.

"What... happened?"

"You fainted."

"Ah... so I did..." Kanryuu twisted his head about, and a smug little smile crept onto his face. "I see that you brought back one of the assailants... Very good, very good." The businessman felt for his glasses, almost as if for reassurance. Then he stood up shakily, pushing off his covers. The man was dressed still in his costly foreign business suit. It was no longer white, but muddied and wrinkled. For a brief moment Aoshi thought of the tall Ebisawa's long, immaculately white coat, swirling and fading into the shadowed night.

"We shall have to... _question_ him, of course. Perhaps -- yes, now would be a good time to do it."

Aoshi felt an odd chill pass over him. "I doubt you will get anything useful from him. Especially in his current state."

"Ah, but that is precisely why I wish to question him _now_..." Kanryuu strode purposefully to the unconscious man and bending down, began to shake him. "Wake up, you worthless bag of dirt." When nothing happened, the businessman calmly lit a cigar, then drew something from his pocket and held it under the man's nose. Presently, with a low moan, the man began to stir. Aoshi noticed that the man was young, around the same age as himself. The young man had the plain, weather-beaten look of a simple peasant farmer. He was also missing an arm -- lost, no doubt, in the earlier affray.

"Who hired you?" demanded Kanryuu, stealing a quick glance at Aoshi. "A business rival who is jealous of my success and wants me dead, no doubt."

The man lifted his head, mumbling something incoherently. Then he looked at Kanryuu defiantly and spat at him. Yet Aoshi saw the fear etched plainly in the man's face.

Kanryuu was furious. "You dog! How dare you!" he screamed, slapping the man. The man was too weak to retaliate further, and his head fell back to the ground.

There was a crazed glint in Kanryuu's eyes as he slowly lowered his cigar towards the injured man's face. "Tell me," breathed Kanryuu. "Tell me _now_." When there was still no reply, Kanryuu thrust the smoldering cigar viciously into the man's eye. The man let out a strangled yell. Kanryuu jumped back, shaking slightly. He began to finger his glasses once more as the man on the ground whimpered softly.

"The other eye is next," hissed Kanryuu after a slight pause. "And after that, I shall break your fingers, one by one."

The man opened his mouth. A hoarse whisper escaped him. "My name is Yosuke..."

Kanryuu stole another glance at Aoshi, almost as if seeking the young okashira's approval. Aoshi saw that the businessman's face was eager, almost triumphant.

"Who hired you?" Kanryuu repeated impatiently.

"He took me in, gave me a job, money... No one else would take me, a poor, simple boy from the country..." The young man spoke now as if delirious.

Kanryuu made a noise of irritation and moved forward, but Aoshi held him back with a hand on his shoulder.

The wounded man stared at Aoshi with an almost pleading look in his single eye. "I have a sister," he whispered. "A younger sister... I send her the money every month so that she may lead a better life than mine..."

"What nonsense are you blabbering on about!" cried Kanryuu, seething with rage as he broke away from Aoshi's grasp. The businessman stormed up to the man, raising his arm to hit him. But suddenly, the injured man's remaining arm shot out and grabbed Kanryuu's neck.

"We are many years apart, but I love her all the same..." said the young man as Kanryuu thrashed about wildly. Aoshi watched on impassively, reaching swiftly for the tantou that he had carried since he was a little boy. It had always been more of a talisman to him rather than an actual weapon, and he had not used it for years, but now he bent over and slid the blade effortlessly into the young man's heart. Aoshi caught a glimpse of the man's face as he died, and saw there a look of -- accusation? regret? Perhaps both? But Aoshi could not be sure.

"It was useless to try to question him," stated Aoshi frostily as he wrenched Kanryuu from the dead man's grip. "For a man on the brink of death... will fight back with all he has left."

Kanryuu responded only with a pitiful, choking noise. The businessman was trembling violently, staring at the crimson blood flowing from the dead man's chest, staining the ground and the front of his expensive white suit. Finally, the businessman could not stand it anymore, and fled from the room, through the doorway... and past the woman in her lavender kimono, a packet of bandages gripped tightly in her hands.

Aoshi could not be sure of when she had returned. When he looked into her face, he could read nothing in her dark mahogany eyes.

"So..." she said softly. "I was right."

Aoshi stood, aware that his hands were sticky with freshly spilt blood.

"Sit," she snapped. He sat. She strode over.

"Give me your arm."

Her touch was gentle but firm. Neither spoke as she steadily washed the blood from his wound and rubbed salve onto it, then wrapped it in the bandages she had brought. When she finished, she stood and moved away.

Aoshi stared at the dead man lying sprawled on the floor.

And still the rain fell, pattering and pattering in the silence.

When he finally looked up again, she was standing by the window, looking outside. Aoshi stood, desperately wanting to leave the room. But he could not bring himself to move any further.

"Don't you think it's sad?" she said abruptly, staring out the window at the falling rain. He could not tell whether she was speaking to him or if she spoke to herself or even if she realized that she spoke. He caught a glimpse of a silvery teardrop, rolling slowly down her cheek from beneath dark lashes. Her head lowered, hiding her face behind silky strands of her long black hair.

"Even the heavens weep, to see how far we have fallen..."

_Torrents of water_ fall from the sky. down, down, down. each exquisite crystal tear trickles down from above, shattering on the ground. he can smell the wet green scent of the thirsty earth, feel the icy droplets battering him, chilling him to the bone.

he is standing on a bridge. he dares not look down at the murky raging waters below. it occurs to him that this is strange. he is not afraid of anything. perhaps he is afraid that he will drown, though this makes no sense either. he knows that he can swim.

yet he dares not look.

a sudden wind sweeps through his disheveled hair and he tilts up his face instinctively and the water runs down in streams and he closes his eyes and tastes the sweet rain upon his lips and it is cold, so cold and he hates the rain, he hates it and he shivers.

when he opens his eyes again, he sees, standing across the bridge from him, a woman shadowed by long black hair, and a single _pale hand, reaching out through the mists and the pouring rain._

To his surprise, his hand reached out, brushing against the cool dark smoothness of her hair. She glanced up in shock.He jerked back, as if he had burned himself. And then he turned away and fled, seeking refuge in the spare room where the rest of his men lay.

That night, and many nights afterwards, he dreamt that he drowned in a pool of black silk.

**_Tsuzuku_**


	6. Interlude: Come Spring

**Disclaimer applies.**

**Notes: **This chapter is dedicated to the lovely mij, who had just had a birthday at the time I posted this. (January 2006ish?) :-)

* * *

**Kakusei: Awakening**

_Chapter Six - Interlude: Come Spring_

_April is the cruelest month, breeding  
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing  
Memory and desire, stirring  
Dull roots with spring rain.  
- T. S. Eliot, "The Waste Land"_

The final gray days of winter passed without incident. Spring came, and with it, the gentle spring showers, light and fleeting, leaving the scent of hope and life lingering in the air. The sun woke from its long gray slumber, bathing the earth in hazy golden warmth. Green sprouts peeked through the damp dark earth, and everywhere there was the sound of sparrows twittering as they dashed across a faded blue sky. The whole world seemed fresh and new.

Hannya and Beshimi had retrieved the dead men from the alley the morning after the attack, laying them out at the edge of the property. The bodies of the dead were cremated within the mansion grounds. When forty-nine days had passed and the rains had ceased, Aoshi chanted "Namu Amida Butsu, Namu Amida Butsu..." one hundred and eight times in all as the ashes were scattered to the winds.

It was a habit Aoshi had fallen into, ever since the Oniwabanshuu had been turned out of Edo Castle. Performing funeral rites for those he and his men had vanquished, those who would otherwise remain lying in the dusty streets, picked apart by stray dogs. He did this, he told himself, to make sure that he and his men would leave no trace for meddling police to track them down, as any proper ninja should. Not that they were traceable even if they did not take such precautions, but it was always good to be safe.

As the days grew warmer and Hyottoko and Aoshi regained their strength, Aoshi set up a guard schedule. The grounds surrounding the building were guarded by Kanryuu's own hirelings, but the mansion itself was the domain of the Oniwabanshuu alone. All of them took turns shadowing both Kanryuu and the woman Aoshi identified to them only as "Megumi." But only Aoshi and Hannya went on guard duty whenever Kanryuu had business, or when the woman worked on her drug. The three who were not tailing either one would be sent to watch over the various entrances to the mansion.

Aoshi and his men settled quickly into their new routine, as they always had. In due time, every secret passage and hidden room within the mansion, as well as their contents, was discovered and reported to the young okashira. Aoshi himself saw only glimpses of the boy called Tetsuo, stowed away in one such room. He assumed that the woman was secretly caring for the boy. And if his men noticed the boy's presence, they made no mention of it, nor did they question the fact.

He was waiting by the mansion gates for Kanryuu one morning when he heard a voice call out.

"Look, Aoshi-sama!" laughed Shikijou, pointing excitedly like a young boy.

_Look, aoshi-sama, whispers_ shikijou, as they walk together down the long dusty road to tokyo.

and he looks, though he has already seen.

the first sakura of the year, continues the scarred man, in a bitter mixture of reverence and spite.

aa, replies hannya. the sakura, it mocks us.

the blossoms drift down like clouds of pale snow, surrounding them all in a pink flurry, and he thinks that hannya is right.

they are trapped on the brink of nothingness, lost in _an empty pink storm._

A single pink petal floated down from beyond the great stone walls.

"Tonight?" Shikijou prompted eagerly.

"Aa," replied Aoshi, something stirring within his heart. "Tonight."

Shikijou beamed, a wide happy grin that soon shifted into an annoyed frown as they both heard a new voice calling from the path.

"Aoshi!"

The scarred man disappeared silently. Aoshi did not turn. He waited coolly for their employer to reach his side.

"Aoshi." There was a smile in the businessman's voice. A gleeful smile. It made his shoulders tense. "I shall be going away for a few days to the city. A business trip."

"I take it things are going well."

"I am about to close in on an excellent deal. A wonderful deal! My profits shall double, no, triple!"

Aoshi said nothing in the almost expectant silence that followed.

"You'll join me, won't you?" murmured Kanryuu. "As my bodyguard."

"No."

"What?" Kanryuu gripped his sleeve. Aoshi fought the urge to shake the man off. "What do you mean by this! Am I not your employer? Are you not meant to do my bidding?"

"Take Hannya," replied Aoshi firmly. Still he refused to turn. "Hannya is far better than I for jobs like this. Unless you would rather have a repeat of what happened last time."

"No! I insist that you come with me," said Kanryuu, toning down his voice in an obvious attempt to soothe the young okashira. "I do not trust that despicable masked demon for an instant." There was something disgustingly smug about his voice now. "He would _kill_ me the moment we set foot from this mansion, the moment we stepped out of your sight."

A pause, hesitation. "To distrust Hannya is to distrust me," Aoshi said coldly. "For he is my man." _And not yours._

"But--"

"This is the perfect opportunity for Hannya to collect information on the man known as Ebisawa," he continued quietly. "Or have you forgotten already?"

Kanryuu lingered helplessly at his side, knowing that he had lost. At last, the businessman sighed.

"Very well."

But Aoshi thought he detected a hint of poison in the oily smoothness of the other man's voice.

- - -

Hyottoko and Beshimi were waiting some distance away, tossing kunai at a tree.

"Fifty-four! I win!" Aoshi could hear Beshimi cackling gleefully as he and Kanryuu approached.

Hyottoko laughed together with the smaller man. "So you did, you little shrimp!" But there was no edge to the insult.

Beshimi smirked, then whirled around. "Okashira!"

Aoshi nodded curtly in acknowledgement, glad for the chance to get away from the slimy businessman tailing close behind him. "What is it that you wanted to speak to me about?"

The small man glanced first at Hyottoko, then at Aoshi, then eyed their employer warily. He made a small gesture that Kanryuu could not see and moved off to a more secluded area in the woods. Aoshi followed him, after glaring sharply at Kanryuu to make sure the businessman stayed with Hyottoko.

Beshimi stopped and turned to face him.

"It's nothing, really..."

Aoshi waited patiently.

"Aoshi-sama --" Beshimi burst out at last. "It's about that _woman_. I don't trust her!"

A pause. "Why not?"

"I -- I don't know," admitted Beshimi reluctantly. "It's just -- a feeling."

Aoshi's mouth turned down subtly in some semblance of a frown.

"She flits about the shadows like one of our own, and sometimes she laughs and stares at the corners where we're hidden, as if she knows we're there," Beshimi continued with a barely perceivable shudder. "But of course that's impossible --"

"Yes. We have dealt with paranoia before," interrupted Aoshi, a slightly reprimanding hint in his voice.

"It's not just that," insisted Beshimi. "What I don't understand is -- _what_ is this woman here for? She cannot be his mistress -- he hardly even visits her, much less talks to her. But I cannot understand what other use she could be to him! She wanders about the empty halls, at odd hours of the day, or about the gardens, which smell disgustingly sweet, or else she lurks in her room, flipping through books, watching, watching..."

"A wife, perhaps, gone mad."

"She is always watching. Watching, waiting, for something. I do not know what. But I can see it in her eyes -- something _inhuman_, Okashira..."

"Inhuman?" Aoshi repeated slowly.

"Kitsune," whispered Beshimi. "Those trickster spirits of Inari... It is plotting something. I do not know what, but it cannot be any good. It possessed the woman, or perhaps transformed into her, and bewitched Takeda Kanryuu. Perhaps it will bewitch us all."

Aoshi stood silently for a moment, lost in thought.

"Aa," he murmured under his breath. "Perhaps it will bewitch us all."

- - -

Meanwhile, Kanryuu had lit a cigar. He had not yet moved from his place. Hyottoko too stayed behind, awkward, uncertain.

"Do your other comrades also distrust you so?" asked Kanryuu, almost offhandedly, as he stared down the path Aoshi and Beshimi had left on.

Hyottoko glanced at him suspiciously, confused. "What do you mean?"

Kanryuu sneered slightly. "Why, my poor, poor man. I should have thought it obvious what I meant."

Hyottoko only looked more confused.

"Isn't it obvious how they scorn you? The secrets they keep from you. A pity, such a talented onmitsu such as you, yet your comrades keep you constantly in the dark. When was the last time they confided in you their plans?"

Hyottoko shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Aoshi-sama trusts me."

"Oh, I was not referring to your -- most _noble_ Aoshi-sama," replied the businessman delicately. "But rather, those sly, conniving men who call you friend while in secret think you gullible, and stupid, and worthless." As he finished speaking, Kanryuu glanced up with a slight smirk upon his face, gazing at the returning figures of Beshimi and Aoshi.

"When do we leave?"

Kanryuu jumped, dropping his cigar. He frowned, then quickly composed himself as he realized it was Hannya.

"At sunset," said the businessman curtly, obviously still unnerved at the masked shinobi's sudden appearance.

Hannya gave no indication that he heard, silently staring instead at Hyottoko. Hyottoko seemed uncharacteristically lost in thought, but shifted uneasily again when he felt his comrade's steady gaze upon him.

Kanryuu crushed the fallen cigar beneath his heel and left without another word.

Neither Aoshi nor Beshimi noticed the odd tension in the air when they reached the other two.

All four onmitsu headed back to the mansion in silence.

- - -

The shadows grew longer. Kanryuu and Hannya had left. The mansion was large and empty. It was cold.

A sudden din in the halls disturbed Aoshi from his thoughts.

"Hey, hey! So this is the pretty prize Kanryuu's been hiding from us!"

"Oi, you his whore, girl?"

"Come along and comfort us lonely men, eh?"

"I wouldn't have believed it of that slimy toad! Can't deny he's got good taste though!"

"Come on, come join us a few drinks!"

"_Leave me alone, you dogs._"

Silence.

Then laughter, loud and raucous. "Feisty one, isn't she?"

"Come on now, come on..."

"I told you to leave me alone!"

But there was a slight tremble in her voice now, and he knew as she knew that they could sense it. They would pounce now like a pack of hounds at the end of a hunt, the smell of fear racing through their blood.

He stepped forward, out of the shadows. But before he could say anything, another voice, dark and smooth, wormed its way into the harsh laughter of the men.

"You are not allowed here."

He looked up and saw a stranger with a pale, haggard face, dressed in a black Western suit. The woman moved as if to flee, but Aoshi caught her arm.

The laughter faded and there was a chill in the air. There was a stink of sake and piss, and in the dull eyes of the men Aoshi saw fear and hate and decay.

"Leave," whispered Aoshi, his voice like frost creeping in upon the fields at night.

They fled like dogs with their tails tucked between their legs, stumbling down the dark hall.

The pale stranger smiled thinly. "I believe we have not yet met, Shinomori-sama." He bowed, his skeletal figure bending like a snapped stick. "I am... the 'butler'." His lips formed the last word in English, spoken with a delicate inflection. Aoshi thought he had seen the man before, flitting about the halls. They had indeed never spoken. Kanryuu had many menservants, all of them harmless, all of them irrelevant. Invisible.

And then the man turned and Aoshi found himself alone yet again with the woman. He was still holding her arm. Her sleeve had slipped down to her elbow and he saw the smooth skin lacerated with angry scars branching down to her wrist like a long, wiry fence. In his mind he could see rivers of blood, washing away the dust and the ashes.

She tore her arm viciously from his grasp. "I don't need your help!"

"Come join us." The words slipped from his mouth. He saw her staring at him with a strange look on her face. "Bring the boy with you."

_Come join us, _the little girl pleads. it'll be loads of fun. cooking is fun. jiya says so too.

he does not reply. they have been here a week and already he can see. they do not belong here. they have been here only a week and the people are afraid, and they do not come. there are rumors only but perhaps they fear that one day they will find poison in their food or wake up to find their bodies pinned to their beds with a dozen kunai. his four know it, can feel the whispers and the stares boring into their ugly backs, but the others are blind and happy and think only of hope and the future. they are young but the old man should know better. but the old man has never grown up, or perhaps he clings to a dead vision of a dead past that will never be again.

they are the last of them all, the only ones left after five long years, the ones who linger and are irrelevant. and yet even so for a while they stay.

they leave _with the first blossoms of the year_.

"The first blossoms of the year," the woman murmured at his side. The boy stood now with her, white and fragile as he had looked the last time Aoshi saw him. They stood, all three of them, at the gates of the great mansion, faces turned to the night. "I hadn't noticed."

"Aoshi-sama! I've got the sake!" Shikijou's exultant shout trailed off as he noticed the woman and the boy. The boy cocked his head, staring back at Shikijou.

The woman sneered, her red lips curving slowly upward. "I see. Hanami."

"In memory of those who have fallen," said Aoshi as they moved off into the wooded area.

"What are you doing? What do you want with us?"

"This is the only way we can keep an eye on you."

"Yes, that's right," she said slowly. "I'd forgotten that Kanryuu hired you to be his _watchdogs_." Her eyes narrowed. "And how, if I may ask, do you propose to get past his other hirelings?"

"Kanryuu's out, so most of them are too drunk to care anyway," Shikijou spoke up then, quietly, in a strange tone. He grinned. "Not that they'd notice _us_ even if they were doing their jobs properly." A slight pause. "Okashira?"

"You go ahead. Can you take the boy?"

"No problem," said the scarred man, and crouched down. Before the woman could protest, the boy, shaking off her grasp, crept over obediently and climbed onto Shikijou's back. The scarred man grabbed onto a tree branch and swung onto the wall, then leaped off and landed on the other side without a sound.

The woman whirled around, dark hair whipping back behind her. She glared at Aoshi, crouched and tense, like a cornered beast.

"I will _not_ be carried around like some child's toy," she hissed.

Aoshi stared at her. No words would come to him.

"I won't go. The butler will find me missing. He will tell Kanryuu."

"What is his name?"

She looked surprised. "I don't know."

"You are no toy. You would burn the child who touched you."

She laughed. It was not a pleasant sound.

"I'll take my leave, then," she paused deliberately, "_Shinomori-sama_."

In an instant he moved, too quickly for thought. His tantou materialized in his hand. He pinned her back against the tree with his free hand, pressing the blade against her white throat.

Time froze.

The sound of breathing, harsh and quick, red lips like roses

like blood

and black, black hair

"Will you kill me?" she said, and she laughed again, a raspy, smoldering noise. "Kanryuu may think of you as his prized pet, but I am the golden goose that lays his eggs. He will not be pleased."

He loosened his grip on her shoulder and tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. With a nimble flick of his fingers he flipped the tantou around so that the blade faced him instead.

"This is for you," he said, cold and impassive.

"This!" and she shivered involuntarily. "You bastard," she snarled. "How could I possibly --"

"Take it," he said, but she did not move.

"You are not a doctor, Megumi."

She slapped him.

"Take it," he repeated. "It may be that you will find it... _useful_."

This time she grabbed the handle with trembling hands. She stared at it wordlessly for a few moments, and then with a sudden movement, thrust the blade towards his chest. Aoshi made no move to stop her. Her arm froze in midair. The tip of the blade scratched against his skin.

Once again her laughter scalded the air. He could see the trails of wetness forming on her cheeks.

"You and I, we are the same."

"No. We are different."

"Pitiful, damned fools," she continued, ignoring him.

"We are different," he said again, but she smiled a dangerous red smile as she wiped her face with a lavender sleeve.

"We should go," she said sweetly. "Your men are waiting for us, are they not? They will wonder what is keeping us."

He put his arm stiffly around her waist and looked into her eyes.

Frost crept back into his voice. "Don't even think about escaping."

She smirked, and lowered her eyes demurely.

"Why would I?"

- - -

His men looked at them strangely when they arrived at last to the secreted place, a secluded grove in the outskirts of the city that was no longer Edo, yet still within the shadow of the great white mansion. Aoshi thought of the sakura trees in Kyoto, forever in full bloom in his memories, and watched the strange pale boy grabbing listlessly at the drifting blossoms.

"Boy," he said. "Come and have a drink."

The boy looked at him with cool gray eyes.

"He is hardly old enough," protested the woman.

"He is fifteen, and a man."

Beshimi laughed incredulously, but said nothing.

"Come, drink with us," Shikijou said, laughing as well. "You're a good kid."

Hyottoko said nothing but smiled, and the boy went and drank.

The hours that followed passed like a dream. Aoshi hated the taste of sake, but still he drank it, for his men would not have him abstain. He sipped in memory of those who had fallen, of those who had not, of opportunities lost and thrown away.

He did not notice if the woman drank. And if she did, he did not ask to whom she drank or why.

One thing only troubled him that night as he lay down to sleep.

He could remember nothing of the butler's face, save for a pair of glinting sea-blue eyes.

_**Tsuzuku**_

* * *

This was the incident to which "Seiya no Kinen" refers (in part), though I probably need to do some retrofitting once Kakusei is complete. 

Note that at the beginning of the chapter those were not proper Buddhist funeral rites (for example, ashes are generally kept I believe, not scattered, and entire sutras are recited), but more of a makeshift ritual of sorts. 108 and 49 are auspicious numbers, and show up often in Buddhism. "Namu Amida Butsu" is the phrase for "invoking" Amitabha (Amitofo in Chinese), the buddha who presides over the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss (Xi Fan Ji Le Shi Jie), which is something like the equivalent of the Christian heaven (i.e. not nirvana), and generally plays a role only in the Mahayana sects, but not in Theravada.

And Inari, who Beshimi mentions, is the Japanese fox god. Sorta. Google is your friend. And forgot to mention in the notes of the previous chapter that the title comes from the WWII poem by Edith Sitwell. Also changed the title of Chapter Four to "Shape Without Form, Shade Without Colour," from a line in T. S. Eliot's "The Hollow Men."

Also note that I changed the way I'm spelling Hannya's name... I only realized this was the proper spelling after realizing that it's the name of a type of (noh) mask (as are the other names, except possibly Shikijou, which I can't find). (10/18/06 -- this may be fixed in future updates)


	7. Drowned Suns That Glimmer There

**Disclaimer applies.**

**Notes: **Past the halfway point now. Phew. Maybe there's a chance I'll finally finish it this year after all. :P (10/18/06 -- Or not.) Kind of dissatisfied with these two most recent chapters; will probably go back sometime to edit like crazy. Also, website is undergoing an overhaul. Check my profile for links.

* * *

**Kakusei: Awakening**

_Chapter Seven - Drowned Suns That Glimmer There_

Hannya and Kanryuu returned within days, late one afternoon, the businessman frothing with furious frustration and the masked one deathly quiet.

"Nothing," Hannya whispered fiercely to Aoshi as their employer ranted and raved about slimy sneaks and greedy cheapskates. "Nothing at all."

"There is nothing an Oniwaban spy does not know," said Aoshi, and Hannya glared sullenly from behind his mask.

" -- Those fools! They'll see, oh, they'll see..."

"That man is no merchant, you and I both know. And Ebisawa Minoru can hardly be his true name."

" -- Just wait, just wait and see --"

"It was the only lead we had. One does not make up names on the spot, out of nowhere."

"You _fool_ --"

" -- They'll live to regret the day they ever crossed Takeda Kanryuu!"

"Hannya. An old lover's name; an admired character from a play -- anything can be a clue."

"Okashira, I have not followed you all these years for nothing!"

" -- Isn't that right, my dear Aoshi?"

Aoshi turned his gaze from the red blaze glimmering above the horizon and the shadows stretched across the ground to Kanryuu's glinting spectacles.

"As long as we stand guarding you," Aoshi said, slowly, "you are invincible."

And then he turned and strode back inside the mansion, Hannya a soundless shadow behind him.

- - -

"I am sorry," said Hannya later that night, not sounding sorry at all. "I must have overlooked something."

Aoshi said nothing for some time. "I cannot understand what his motivation could be. Revenge, perhaps."

"Yet this does not smell of revenge," murmured Hannya, and slipped off to relieve one of the others from his post.

_Tenchuu_, thought Aoshi. Heaven's justice, the Ishin assassins had screamed amid scarlet rain, but there had been no justice for the Oniwabanshuu, and the war had long ended, along with all their shattered dreams.

Down the hall, a light flickered in the library. Aoshi quietly approached the door.

"Go on to bed, Tetsuo," said a soft, weary voice. "I'll be a while yet."

A slender figure emerged from the darkness and turned, flashing a brief smile in Aoshi's direction before continuing to pad down the hallway. Aoshi stared after the boy, then stepped into the doorway, taking care to keep out of the light. The room smelled of smoke and ink and yellowing paper.

In the pale lamplight she looked shrunken and aged, bent over tomes and scrolls as if a great weight pressed down upon her back. Once or twice she dipped her brush in ink and scrawled notes in the margins of the pages as she flipped through. When some time had passed, she pushed back her chair and looked up from her work, staring out into the darkness. Resisting the urge to draw closer, Aoshi continued to watch her from the doorway.

She drew out the tantou, carelessly fingering its edge. And then with a shudder she threw the blade down and buried her head in her arms. The sharp metal gleamed in the pale light.

Aoshi moved towards her, uncertain. But when she looked up at his approach, he saw that her face was dry.

"Do you never sleep?" she said, but there was no bite in her words.

"You are the one who needs sleep," he replied. "You cannot accomplish anything in this state."

"Sleeping, awake -- there is no difference."

To this he had no answer.

"Is it not so? Tell me -- is it not so?" She stood, grabbing his sleeve with a sudden wild desperation. He faltered, stepped back.

She let go of him, and now a slight bitter smile played about her lips. "Am I so terrifying?"

"No." He looked away from her, glancing at the tantou, still on the table.

"They told me it helped people, that it took their pain away..." she murmured then, almost dreamily. "But then I found that relief from pain came only at a price, a terrible price."

He thought of the scars that etched her wrist.

"Would you pay that price?"

"What?" An edge of anger, almost frantic. "What are you talking about?"

Aoshi said nothing for a while. "There are easier ways."

"_Aoshi_ --" and her voice broke off in sudden panic. She made to push past him for the door, but he grabbed the blade from the table and blocked her way.

"Jigai," he said simply, absently reaching out and brushing her hair from her neck. His hand lingered there, not quite touching.

She swatted his hand away, eyes blazing. "I believe in _life_!"

The silence between them stretched taut.

"Then make sure to protect your own," he said at last, gently mocking, voice laced with frost.

Once more she tried to storm past him, but again he moved to block her path, catching her wrist in his hand, wrapping her fingers around the hilt of the tantou.

"You are a daughter of samurai," Aoshi whispered, in that same mocking tone. "You should know, better than I..." _Of duty, of honor._ _The samurai's way._

She glared back at him. "And what if I do not?" she spat. And then she smiled, that familiar dangerous smile, and brought up her free hand to the hand that held her wrist. "Would you teach me, Shinomori Aoshi? Would you teach me to protect myself?"

He dropped her hand and strode past her into the hall, refusing to look at her.

"What do you think?" he said as he left her behind.

- - -

As Aoshi walked down the stairs and towards the foyer to switch shifts with Hyottoko, he heard voices coming from the kitchen. He could not make out what they spoke of. He drew closer to the door, listening carefully. But one mumbled incomprehensibly, and it seemed to him that the other spoke not in Japanese, but some barely familiar language he could not name. He thought then that he recognized that second voice, dark and smooth like silk, and nudged the door open a crack.

He could hear more clearly now, but it seemed to him the intonation of that second voice had changed somewhat. Aoshi realized he could make out words -- the voice was speaking in Japanese after all. He wondered if he had been mistaken earlier.

"Please..."

"I would advise you to leave."

"Please... please... I will die..."

"You have no money. And food, I should think, is more urgent."

Aoshi saw now who the speakers were, confirming his suspicions of the second. And the first -- the first was a ragged, emaciated creature, man or woman he could not tell. A shriveled old woman, he decided, with sunken eyes and sweat rolling down her face even as her entire body shivered and shook.

"I will die..." The old woman continued to mumble, words slurring, interrupted from time to time by hideous yellow yawns.

Aoshi slipped into the room and faced the butler. "What is this? How did she get in?"

The butler shrugged. "A mother or an aunt of one of the gate guards, most likely. Whoever it was shall, of course, have to be dealt with."

Aoshi bit back the question that followed, _But how did she get past my men?_, and said instead, "It is late to be holding conversations in the kitchen."

"Takeda-sama cannot sleep. He asked me to bring him wine, that he might ease his mind."

"Give me... just this once... please... just once..."

Aoshi turned to the woman. "It is best that you leave, lest you wish to face Takeda Kanryuu's wrath."

The old woman began laughing uncontrollably, tears squeezing from her eyes. "Kanryuu! I know, I know... what you're hiding... Kanryuu! Give, give..."

The butler, eyebrow raised, glanced at Aoshi. "Let us escort her out, before Takeda-sama takes it into his mind to come down to investigate, shall we?"

Aoshi nodded coolly, and the two men each grabbed an arm, ignoring the woman's senseless jabbering.

At the foot of the stairs, the old woman broke from their grasp with a sudden burst of strength.

"My lady, my lady --"

And there _she_ stood before them, wide-eyed and pale, the old woman grasping at the edges of her kimono.

"Megumi," said Aoshi.

"Wait," she said, "let me, I can --"

"No," Aoshi said as the butler recaptured the old one into his grasp, pulling the woman away from her. "Kanryuu will not allow it, this freely giving away of his products. And more cannot save her now."

"Do you think I give a _damn_ what Kanryuu will or will not allow?" she yelled, though already the butler was shoving the old woman out the door.

"_I forbid you_," said Aoshi. And then, quietly, "She brought this upon herself. Nothing can save her now."

"But it could at least ease her p--" She broke off. Aoshi looked up, and realized that Hannya was there, and watching. The masked man nodded at him, almost imperceptibly, then turned.

"Takani Megumi," said Hannya. "Come. Return to your room."

"I was looking for Tetsuo..." whispered Megumi.

"Come," insisted Hannya, and this time she obeyed.

Aoshi watched them climb back up the stairs, noting that none stood guard now in the foyer, then headed out and down the path, toward the gate.

There, in the chill of the bleak hours right before dawn, a young guard pleaded and begged as the butler thrust an old woman out into the streets and his fellow guard stood and said nothing. Aoshi reached the scene in swift strides, and pointed his kodachi at the young man's neck.

"Leave," Aoshi said. "Or will you wait for Kanryuu's judgment when dawn breaks?"

The young man scampered away with the old woman, and the butler said, "I will send for a replacement," eyeing the second guard as if he too might decide to flee, and all three men returned to their respective duties in silence.

Hannya had left Aoshi a note, folded in form of a lotus flower.

_Boy found._

And then, scrawled quickly, as if a sudden bubbling thought:

_This place is riddled with secret passages._

In the morning Kanryuu met Aoshi at the stairs and smiled a sly smile.

"Soon," the businessman murmured, "soon."

- - -

The days grew longer. Day after day after day. The sun creeping steadily across a deep blue sky, scorching the earth, sinking past the horizon far beyond, rising once more to the east. Sweat rolling, drop after drop, a ponderous trickle, rolling down dusty skin and blistered hands. Time slowed to a near stop, crawling, inching along until it seemed to Aoshi he could remember no time when Kanryuu's mansion had not loomed over him, its great shadow ever at his back.

The endless mazelike passages, twisting and turning in upon themselves, writhing like snakes come alive. White walls closing in night after night until he feared he had forgotten the sight of a dark star-filled sky. Waking in the darkness, wet with perspiration, nostrils stuffed with the smell of rot and decay, and blood, vaguely remembered, or perhaps imagined.

Morning brought no relief. The smell lingered, sticky-sweet, haunting him throughout the plodding hours of the day.

And at night he slept, and tossed in his sleep, but did not dream.

The days plodded on and on. And day after day, he watched. Quietly, from the shadows, thinking of a little girl long abandoned long forgotten and wondering if that was what the woman saw in the boy if anything even as she toiled on, fudging recipes, subtly sabotaging her own careful labor, brewing that poison that seemed to intoxicate him simply by its existence, because he knew, oh he knew, and she knew, and perhaps Hannya knew too, even if the man in the white suit and glinting spectacles did not.

_He_ was there too now, always. Watching, watching. Waiting. Gnawing whispering, whispering ever at his ear, sticky hot breath _Aoshi Aoshi Aoshi my pet_ and in the man's oily smug voice Aoshi thought he heard her harsh laughter echoing echoing echoing

dog rat fox

_dog_ _rat fox_

putrid decay

and endless nothingness.

Day after day after day.

-- Screams.

_breaking_ _the monotony_

Late afternoon

and dust.

Aoshi ran from the mansion, in the direction of the screams, through the surrounding trees.

Shikijou, bloody, the boy Tetsuo crouched by the wall --

"Megumi!"

"I'm fine," she said dryly, emptily, eyes blank, face blank, and Aoshi saw the gleam of metal up her sleeve and thought of shapeshifters and the pit of his stomach burned, burned.

"Okashira..." Shikijou grinned wryly, wearily, handed him the crumpled bloodied note clutched in his hand. "Some stranger, got over the walls, attacked -- I don't think he expected my presence -- he ran off --"

And it all seemed wrong, terribly wrong, but his mind whirled in the suffocating heat and he glanced at her and at the boy and at Shikijou, uncrumpled the note and read it, stony still.

_Soon all your burdens will be gone. - The Old Man of the Sea_

"What is going on, Aoshi!" Huffing and panting.

That dreaded oily voice.

"Everything is under control," said Aoshi, not turning, mouth turning down in a near-imperceptible frown. "There are things we must discuss." Then, as an aside, "Get your wounds looked at, Shikijou."

And then he stepped forward, closing in on the woman, not looking at her.

"My offer still stands," he said under his breath, stiffly, swiftly, so that only she heard, and turned, following Kanryuu back through the front door.

She gazed after him, confused and thoughtful.

_**Tsuzuku**_

* * *

Things to fix in future: pacing, consistency in style as compared to previous chapters, smoother transition. ('tis the disadvantages of taking such long breaks between writing each chapter, sigh) This chapter is supposed to mark a transition from a more episodic feel to the actual plot, setting all the pieces in place... Key word is supposed. 

Miscellaneous Notes  
The first two kanji in Ebisawa are "sea" and "old". (It can also be written with different kanji.)

Something I didn't realize earlier: I don't think the mansion is white in the anime, but it's always been white in my mind...

**Jigai** is the less well-known female equivalent of seppuku (ritual suicide, usually connected with concepts of honor/loyalty/"samurai spirit" although it wasn't always done for those reasons). Jigai, performed simply by cutting the jugular vein with a tantou, is far less messy and painful than seppuku ("belly cutting"), and I believe not quite as ritualized, though still with some particular customs, i.e. dressing oneself in white. It was originally performed to prevent rape and preserve one's dignity after an enemy military takeover (both practices of seppuku and jigai originated in the war-torn Sengoku Jidai/Warring States period). The women would even bind their legs together beforehand so that their bodies wouldn't be found in inappropriate positions. Other reasons for jigai were as protest against a husband's moral wrongs (seppuku was also used as a form of protest), or in order for a wife to follow her husband into death.

... And now you all know far more about Japanese ritual suicide than you really need to. :D

But really, knowing this, and knowing the unreliability of wrist-cutting as a form of suicide (as well as the usual psychology behind cutting), and knowing Megumi's medical background added onto her Aizu samurai family background (Aizu being famous during the Bakumatsu for, among other things, women who fought alongside the men in defense of their domain, and the Byakkotai, a brigade of teenage samurai, nineteen of whom committed seppuku when they thought the castle was burning and the daimyo dead)... her actions really start to come under a rather peculiar light. I think it really says something about her character that she did not choose to perform jigai. And at the same time, her cutting, as well as the choice Aoshi ultimately gives her in the tower, is thrown into a completely different light.

(**10/18/06**: s-girl/eriesalia has since noted that doctors are not actually samurai class, but a class of their own. We think. I'd assumed they were, since they're allowed a family name. I don't remember if we ever came to a conclusion about this though. Input from knowledgeable people would be appreciated. Either way, these notes still hold somewhat...)


End file.
